


Pockets Full of Stones (What the Water Gave Us)

by gunslingaaahhh



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mermaid, M/M, Mer!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-12
Updated: 2012-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-09 20:25:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gunslingaaahhh/pseuds/gunslingaaahhh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny never expected to fall in love again.</p>
<p>He also never expected for the love of his life to be half fish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pockets Full of Stones (What the Water Gave Us)

**Author's Note:**

> This took me FOREVER to finish; hopefully it doesn't suck? 
> 
> I haven't seen any "Steve as mer-person" fic, so I decided to write my own =)

Staring down at the slip of paper in his hand, Danny Williams tried his best to remain calm. He had lucked out on getting his boat and signing on as a contract laborer with the local fishing companies, but that was where the luck ended.

Grumbling, he watched the other fishermen and their crews prepare for the day, hauling supplies onto their boats, mending nets, prepping holding tanks. He kicked at the dock and stomped his way towards the office, a smallish wooden structure tucked behind barrels of bait.

“So you want a hundred and seventy-five pounds for the weekend? Alright, I’ll have one of my guys bring it over.” Robertson, the foreman, cast Danny a cursory glance before turning back to the paperwork on his desk. The phone was clutched in a fat fist, and was placed back in it’s cradle before he turned his attention to the furious man before him.

“What the fuck is this, huh?” Danny practically shouted, slamming the paper onto the desk.

“It’s a warning, Williams. I pay you to catch fish. You don’t catch fish, I don’t make any money. I don’t make any money, _you_ don’t make any money. See? Simple.”

Fuming, Danny’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “Simple? No, I’ll tell you exactly how this _isn’t_ simple: I don’t get paid, I can’t give my ex-wife child support. I don’t do that, they completely revoke my visitation. No visitation means the end of my life as I know it. Do not do this to me right now.”

Robertson sat back in his chair, cracking his knuckles before resting his hands on his thighs. “Look, Williams, you’re a great guy, and you’re a decent fisherman, but there isn’t anything I can do if you don’t bring me fish.”

“How am I supposed to bring you fish if the other guys keep sabotaging my boat!” Danny shouted, arms wind-milling. “Every morning I get here, something’s wrong with it that I have to fix. Nothing major, just enough that it takes me longer to get going. By the time I get out, everyone else is already in the best spots, and they leave me jack shit. I even caught one of them trawling my nets!”

“What goes on between you and the other guys isn’t any of my business. Look, I feel for you on the kid thing, I do. I’m willing to make you a deal, here, but this is the last bit of charity I give you, understand? It’s the beginning of the month now, I’ll give you til the fifteenth of next month to bring me a decent haul. You prove that you can fish like a pro, like your references say you can, and I’ll pretend I never signed a pink slip.”

Grinding his teeth, Danny ran through a few scenarios in his head. He’d have to pull longer hours, going out earlier and coming back later, maybe even give up the rat-trap apartment he had and just live on the boat. It was a small sacrifice. “Yeah, it’s a deal.”

The men shook hands, and Danny trudged his way back down to his boat, grumbling all the while. The other guys had already gone, no doubt to the sweet spots they liked to neglect to mention to him. The only benefit was that all his nets were in; he was going to recast in a new spot, re-trawl, and hope the native sons of Hawaii left his things alone.

~*~

Fishing was Danny’s entire life. His father had had a boat, had had both his sons on it from the time they could walk. Matthew eventually decided he’d prefer white-collar living, but Danny found himself hopelessly in love with the ocean, and all of the things she could give him. He trawled up and down the East Coast, mostly up in New England. It was cold, more often than not, but he made decent money and was able to support himself.

When a gorgeous British woman hit him with her car, he knew things were changing. Rachel had expensive taste, except when it came to her men. Or, so it seemed, at first. Danny did his best to provide, working long hours and spending weeks at sea, trying to haul the biggest bounty. When Rachel announced she was pregnant, Danny went into overdrive.

Of course, he was too much of a realist to believe it would last forever, so when Rachel announced she was leaving him and taking Grace with her, he had no choice but to comply. His salary wasn’t enough to properly provide for a child, so he didn’t fight hard for visitation. He kept his living conditions to a bare minimum, socking away as much extra as he could to have something for his little girl.

When Rachel announced she was moving to Hawaii with her new husband a few years later, Danny felt like his entire world had disappeared. The only way he could afford to follow was if he sold his boat – the boat that had been his fathers – and doing that was almost as painful as the thought of losing Grace. So, after a long talk with his parents, Danny auctioned off the boat, getting more than he’d anticipated but not enough by a long shot, and followed his child.

A few friends of his family lived on Oahu, and were willing to give Danny a place to stay until he got on his feet. He used what remained of his boat money to buy a new boat, naming it ‘Saving Grace.’ It was a good sized vessel, and had enough space below deck for a man to sleep and eat and live, if he had to, though he’d probably always smell like the fish that was being stored only a little ways away. Danny didn’t care, he’d take what he could get if it meant being with his daughter.

He had an impressive list of references, but didn’t know enough about the local fishing culture to want to sign on with any one supplier. General contracting seemed safest, though it did provide a greater likelihood of getting hosed.

The references meant jack shit to the locals, though. Danny had ended up docked where he was one of maybe three haoles, not including Robertson. They didn’t like him, and were constantly doing things to his nets, his boat, and his motor to trip him up. None of them shared their knowledge of the best spots to fish, or what sorts of fish to look for. He did as much research as he could, but aside from that he was in the dark; it was frustrating and enough to make him want to pull his hair out.

~*~

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you… you, you ok? Nah, fuck you too,” Danny mumbled to himself as he went past his competitors. He could see them here and there, trawling their nets and hauling in. The Saving Grace was a damn good boat, and he’d be damned if he let anyone vandalize it anymore.

Checking his bearings, Danny pushed on, steering himself out further than he’d gone before. This side of the island boasted large fish, and the further out you went, the larger the fish got. That was good, except that larger fish often meant larger predators.

Like sharks.

_Big_ ones.

Shivering despite the sun beating down on him, Danny pushed for a bit more before cutting the engine and dropping anchor. He manned his own boat by himself, no crew; he got paid for the entire haul that way, and then he didn’t have to worry about crew members being injured or anything else.

Humming, he began setting up his nets and buoys, making sure holes had been patched. Satisfied, he reeled them out, watching the weights drag them down. He usually set a few before trawling, coming back to his nets a day or so after. Of course, now that he had a deadline to meet – or else – he wasn’t sure if he could afford his usual manner of business. Sighing heavily, he watched the nets reel out to the end before letting it go and moving onto the next one.

Eventually he was trawling, squinting behind his sunglasses as the sun glinted off the ocean. It was still odd to be out on the boat in shorts and a t-shirt, so accustomed to wearing layer upon layer, knit hats and gloves as he was. It was probably the only decent trade off, as less layers meant he could move better across the deck.

At the rumbling of his stomach, Danny cut the engine and dropped anchor, rooting around for his cooler. He hadn’t eaten breakfast, and by now it was time for lunch; he was starving. Munching his way through a bologna sandwich, he squinted at the waves. Fins were popping up in small groups here and there, and after a few minutes, a dolphin launched itself into the air. Danny startled and then laughed, coming closer to the edge to watch the dolphins play. The glare made it hard to stare at them for too long, and he supposed that’s what contributed to the trick his eyes were playing.

“Looks like a dude down there,” he called to the dolphins. They splashed in response, swimming in circles before going off to amuse someone else. Danny watched them go before returning his gaze to that spot in the water. He thought he’d seen someone, a man, down in the depths. A quick scan of the area showed no other boats, and therefore nowhere for a diver to return to, if someone was in fact diving.

It wasn’t his concern, but Danny made a mental note to keep an eye out if someone was in trouble anyway.

~*~

The next day, the nets boasted fish for the first time in weeks, and Danny crowed with delight, hauling them in and dumping the fish into the holding tank. It wasn’t a huge amount, but it was a good start for first thing in the morning. As he brought in the last net, he noticed a small repair made with twine that wasn’t his. Frowning, he examined it more closely and was baffled; the knots were tiny, expertly tied, and didn’t look like they were coming undone.

It was odd because even if Danny _had_ spotted the hole, he certainly hadn’t fixed it, and the net had been in the water all night. Shaking his head, he began to prepare the nets to be reeled out again. He paused, though, as something flicked by in his peripheral vision. Slowly making his way to the side of the boat, he peered over, examining the water. Squinting, he leaned closer and almost shouted when he saw what was undoubtedly a face looking back at him. Scrambling to the controls, he hauled up the anchor and started the engine, quickly moving away from the area.

“There is no one down there, I did not see a face,” he told himself loudly, rounding the boat and killing the engine again. He didn’t drop the anchor, just drifted in the quiet, eyes scanning the water for any trace of a person. A splash from behind had him moving slowly towards the very back of the boat. There was a set of stairs there, stairs down to the water in the event a smaller boat pulled up alongside.

Normally there was just a bit of water sloshing on those stairs, but as Danny got closer, he saw what looked like a pair of arms, curving up into broad shoulders, the long column of a graceful neck, and a beautiful, curious face. Stopping short, Danny looked around quickly, double checking for any sign of other boats. There were none, and this man didn’t appear to have any sort of equipment on him.

“Um,” Danny called out, squatting at the top of the short stairs, “are you alright? I don’t see any other boats… do you need a lift?”

The man stared at him for a moment, eyes a strange mix of grey and green and blue, before breaking out into a grin. Danny fell back on his ass, shrieking in the face of that grin; where normal, even, human teeth should’ve been were what looked like rows of sharp, serrated shark teeth. Scrambling backwards, Danny tried to get to his feet – get to the controls, get away, this isn’t happening – but slipped, the deck sloshed with water.

Glancing back at the man, Danny saw a look of dismay, watched as the man raised a hand to his lips as his eyes widened with understanding. The man was gone then, disappearing into the waves. Danny didn’t move, waited to see if the man would come back. He didn’t.

Creeping back to the stairs, Danny peered over, noting a definite lack of man-with-shark-teeth. That was unnatural, it was _weird_ , and Danny was pretty sure he had sun stroke. Getting to the controls and starting the boat, he went back to his nets, trawling in a very small area until necessity drove him further out again. It was only a couple of hours, he’d have to be making his way back to land soon, but the need for the cash was greater than the need to be afraid.

Just as before, as soon as he’d cut the engine, there was a splashing at the back of the boat, and when Danny turned to look, the man was watching him, eyes wide. Blowing out a slow breath, Danny inched his way over toward his weapons drawer, fingers itching for a knife. As he moved, he watched the man lift something up, and paused, jaw hanging open.

Fish. Hooked and tied onto a line, dozens of them, and large, as Danny tentatively reached out to tug the line onto the boat. There was more fish than he’d seen in weeks of fishing on that line, all of them heavy and all of them expensive. Casting a glance at the man, Danny dared a cautious smile. The man twitched his lips, quirking them up at the corners, but keeping his teeth from view. _He remembered from before_ , Danny thought.

“Can you talk at all?” he called, gesturing with his free hand. “I mean, you aren’t deaf, right? Are you mute? Do you need help?”

The man continued to shyly grin at him, but made no moves to speak. Frowning, Danny tapped his foot for a moment before tossing the fish into the holding tank. There was a couple grand’s worth in there already, and he hadn’t even finished trawling yet.

“Did you catch those for me?” he asked, sitting on the top step but keeping his feet out of reach. The man cocked his head, like a dog, and Danny repeated the question, gesturing to the line. The man grinned then, nodding emphatically.

“You did, huh? Well that’s very nice of you, I appreciate that. I can’t pay you, though… I, uh, I can barely afford to pay myself.”

A look of confusion washed over the man’s face before he disappeared, reappearing a few moments later with another line, this one without fish. He made a swimming motion with his other hand – Danny didn’t bother to try and wrap his head around how the man was staying above water like that – and gestured to the line. He did this a few times before Danny realized the man was asking him if he wanted more fish.

“No, buddy, listen: I appreciate the fact that you’re interested in helping me out, but I can’t pay you for that help. It wouldn’t be right, free labor and all of that.”

The man frowned, thumping his fist against the boat before pouting. _Pouting?_ Danny thought, a little bewildered. _I’ve fallen into the twilight zone._

“Look, if you really wanna catch fish for me that badly, fine. I’m not going to stop you. I may not even take it from you, but again, you wanna fish ‘em, be my guest.”

Grinning – teeth still carefully hidden – the man once more disappeared beneath the waves. Danny waited a while longer for him to come back, but soon enough it was darkening, and it was time to head back inland. Calling in to Robertson about his haul, Danny made a few grand that night, silently thanking his new “friend.”

~*~

They developed a routine, the man appearing at the back of the boat with a line laden with fish, every morning. Danny never saw anything below the man’s shoulders, though he was pretty sure there was something going on down there. He didn’t ask, though, didn’t want to burst this fragile bubble of good luck he’d seemed to have stumbled upon.

Danny would’ve been content never seeing the lower two-thirds of the man, but evidently the man had other plans. It was an overcast afternoon, and Danny was finishing his lunch when he heard erratic splashing. Frowning, he got up to look, just in time to see the man floundering onto the small set of stairs, using his arms to haul himself up.

The rest of Danny’s lunch fell from his hands as he watched the man squirm frantically. All was normal, _human_ , from the crown of his head down to about his pelvic bone, and from there… well. Danny knew what mermaids looked like, though he was pretty sure he’d never seen a merman. Because that’s what he was, this person: where hipbones would’ve given way to femurs, little fins stuck out. They flapped and flapped but appeared to be useless, an evolutionary afterthought. The hips were wide, almost as wide as the shoulders, and tapering down from them was a long column of muscle. It was a tail, along the same lines as a dolphin, but larger. Impossibly long, as the man – merman, _thing_ \-- folded himself in half and wrapped his arms around his tail, hugging it to his chest.

Eyes wild, he stared at Danny with what could only be panic. Stricken by that look, Danny looked to see and gasped; a huge fin, dark and deadly, cutting through the waves.

Shark, and a big shark.

Horrified, Danny went to turn on the controls, get the engine going, but the man flapped his tail at him – the end of it fanned out huge – and made a pleading face. Stopping, Danny remained still, watching the fin circle them before diving down again. He waited a good ten minutes before collapsing down to the desk beside his unlikely passenger.

“Wow, first a mermaid invades my boat, then we’re almost eaten by sharks. I thought you were sposed to be friends with those guys.”

The man gave him a look that said ‘are you kidding me?’ before gingerly unfolding himself. Danny watched, intrigued. The man moved as though his tail was more cartilage than bone, like a serpent more than a straight spinal column. The little fins at his hip joints flailed as he wriggled to get his tail back in the water, but didn’t go any further, remaining on the lowest stair. Eying him, Danny noted that the tail was the same strange color as the man’s eyes, though muddier, probably as a sort of camouflage. The tail color started at the very lowest point of the man’s stomach, only inches away from being indecent. In the back, the coloring started about where a butt-crack would’ve began, if he had one. The tail, though, the tail was longer than any set of legs Danny had ever seen.

“So, you’re a mer… thing. And you can’t talk? What’s the deal with that, huh?” Danny asked. The man stared at him for a moment before tapping at his throat and shrugging. Danny nodded; not the same equipment in there, either. “Do you have lungs? Can you breathe in the water?”

Grinning, the man reached for Danny’s hand and practically pulled him into his lap, placing the hand against his chest. Startled, Danny tried to pull away before he realized he could feel a heartbeat, and the rise and fall of someone breathing. Letting go, the man tilted his head just so and ran delicate fingertips over the skin just below where his head met his neck; little slits opened up and Danny gasped; gills.

“Wow… fucking… _wow_. Are there more of you? Y’know, other little mer people swimming around?”

Sadness came over the man’s face then, and Danny realized that maybe the reason this guy had sought him out was because he was lonely, he had no others. Something about that made Danny angry, and he reached out to awkwardly pat the man on the shoulder. The man grinned, showing his teeth before clapping a hand over his mouth.

“I don’t mind the teeth, babe, I guess I’m used to them now… huh. Do you have a name? My ma would kill me, I’m so rude. I’m Danny. And you… well, you sort of look like a Steve.” The man smiled, eyes lighting up, little fins flailing wildly. Danny laughed; apparently Steve agreed. “Alright, Steve it is, then. Do you still wanna help me fish?”

Steve nodded emphatically, more sure of himself now that the shark was gone. He slipped back into the water, and thus the partnership was born.

~*~

Robertson and the others never asked Danny how or where or why he was able to suddenly land such huge hauls, and even if they did, he’d never tell them. Steve was his secret, but also something for Danny to protect; if the general population ever found out he existed, who knew what might happen to him.

Thanks to Steve’s help, Danny was able to make repairs on his boat, update his equipment, and even put a shallow holding tank right on the deck. Steve would haul himself up the short stairs and lever himself into the tank, eating a meal of small fish while Danny took his lunch.

“Dolphins are back, that’s the third time in as many days. One of ‘em your girlfriend or something?” Danny asked, grinning. Steve made a face and peered over the side, watching the dolphins. Danny heard what sounded like dolphin noises, and almost jumped out of his seat when he heard Steve reply.

“The fuck? You speak dolphin?!”

Steve regarded him calmly, tail twitching in the water of his tank. He made more of the chirping, clicking sounds, followed by shrill dolphin whistles. Danny watched and listened, curious, as Steve stopped and started, always in the same pattern. After a few minutes, it dawned on him: Steve was using Morse code. His was rusty, but he knew enough to be able to piece together the fact that Steve could use it to communicate.

“You could’ve mentioned this earlier, y’know,” Danny muttered, heading to the controls and preparing to turn the boat around; he needed to bring in the nets.

_‘You didn’t ask,’_ Steve chirped, shrugging. _‘You asked if I could talk, and the answer is no. I click, I whistle.’_

“Oh, so now you have an attitude? I think I liked you better mute.”

There was a pause, and then Danny was yelping as cold seawater soaked the back of his shirt; Steve was splashing him. Turning, he stomped over to the tank and started splashing back, which in the end was a terrible idea, as Steve was a creature of the ocean and wily, as well as absurdly flexible. Before he realized it, Danny was in the tank himself, spluttering. _It’s a good thing the boat’s off,_ he thought darkly, wiping water from his eyes. Steve wound his arms around Danny’s chest and tugged him into what could’ve been Steve’s lap. Blinking water out of his vision, Danny remained still as Steve held him close, eyes dark and a little hard to read.

_‘I don’t have to make noise, if you don’t want me to,’_ Steve told him, long eyelashes lowering.

“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that… it was weird before, trying to figure out if you were talking to me or not. Um… did you need me to stay in here? I sort of… I need to turn the boat around, there are nets to bring in.” Danny squirmed, the feeling of Steve’s coiled tail beneath him strange.

Startling, Steve quickly removed his arms and wriggled his tail, effectively pushing Danny unceremoniously from the tank. Grumbling, he stomped back to the controls, got the boat in gear, and went to find his nets. Steve humped his way across the deck and down the steps, slipping easily into the water. He often checked the nets for holes over night, guarding and protecting the fish that were caught, as well as luring some in to fatten the catch. He never told Danny this, of course, just let Danny think the only help he offered were his lines of fish.

As night approached, Danny put out the rest of his nets and hauled anchor. “Steve,” he called softly into the oncoming darkness. “I won’t be out tomorrow, I’m visiting with my daughter. I’ll see you soon.”

There was an answering slash, and Steve dove, watching the boat make it’s way inland from below. Sadness came over him, but he didn’t let it take over. If he did, he’d be keen on following Danny and bad things tended to happen to the “fish-people” who strayed too close to land.

~*~

Steve knew Danny had questions; every time Danny made mention of a Grimm’s fairy tale or a Disney movie, he knew the blond was waiting for some sort of correction or anecdote, but Steve couldn’t do it.

Not yet, anyway. Really, how does one go about explaining the fact that they were not always a fish-person? That the loss of his voice and the addition of gills were somewhat related, and that he was a logical progression of aquatic evolution with regards to humans? He couldn’t think of a way to say all of that – and through Morse code, no less – without sounding like he was making it up.

Melancholy, Steve used his powerful tail to propel himself through the water, towards a reef of coral he called home. His vision in the water at night was perfect; really, nighttime was when he did his best hunting. The idea of fishing without Danny made him grouchy, it seemed.

Tucking himself into a cave in the coral, Steve watched little slivers of night reflect in the dark water, saw the nocturnal animals come out and go about their business. He snatched one here and there, snacking, always vigilant and wary of the sharks. The smaller sharks he didn’t mind; they were like coyotes, more or less harmless when they were alone. The bigger ones, though, and one in _particular_ , was far from harmless.

It was the same shark that had been chasing Steve through his life, a shark with a personal vendetta against him, it seemed, or against his kind.

This shark – Steve called him Kingfisher – had taken his mother’s life, and left Steve’s father to pick up the pieces and care for Steve and his sister.

Kingfisher eventually claimed them, too. Steve was all that was left, though he was sure if Kingfisher had his way Steve would be gone as well.

Coiling his tail around himself, Steve burrowed down and slept.

~*~

Danny had never mentioned Steve to anyone, least of all to Grace – who would’ve accepted the story, no strings attached, he was sure – but found himself itching to do so. There was a lot he didn’t know about Steve, about whether or not there were other mer-people. Having someone else know might mean some help in that regard… but Grace was nine going on ten, and her knowledge was limited to story books.

“Danno, you said you wanted to look at houses today? I thought you were living on your boat.”

“I have been, but since I’ve been having such good luck, I was thinking maybe it was time to find a place on land, so you can have a place to stay, too.” Danny pulled the Jeep – a rust red hulk of a thing, but the only vehicle he could afford when he first arrived – into the driveway of their first house on the list. “What do you think about that?”

Grace smiled thoughtfully before throwing her arms around his neck. “I’d love to be able to stay with you! Would Mommy let me?”

“You let me and your mom worry about that, ok? Let’s you and I check out these houses and see if they are Monkey and Danno approved.”

They investigated four houses, speaking in hushed whispers over the pros and cons of all of them. Danny had been able to beef up his savings, thanks to Steve’s help, and he had enough for a down payment on a house. Hawaii was almost disgustingly expensive though, and it took all his effort not to break down and cry when he found out the prices. He didn’t let on to Grace, though, and as he rechecked his directions to the last open-house, he prayed this one wouldn’t be as exorbitant as the rest.

The final house stood on a goodish sized lot, on Piikoi Street. It was older, weathered, with a decent front yard and a small backyard that sloped down to a strip of beach. A realtor was present to answer questions, and when Danny found out the price, his eyes all but fell out of his head.

“But that’s just so… cheap!” he gasped, eyes wide. “I’ve looked at places half the size of this, and they were three times the money. There has to be a reason.”

Fidgeting, the realtor cast a glance towards Grace, who was inspecting the kitchen. “There was an… incident… here years ago. The house has been renovated, cleaned, painted, et cetera since then, but people still seem anxious about the property.”

“What kind of incident,” Danny said flatly. “Because I may not know much about the housing market, but I _do_ know you’re bound by full disclosure. My daughter will be sleeping here, I have the right to know.”

“Shark attack,” the realtor sighed, pressing her fingertips against her temples. “The wife, when the children were small. The husband remained, keeping the kids in their family home, but eventually they were gone, too. Neighbors say sharks got all three of them, but no one can be sure.”

“Are you telling me this area is prone to shark attacks?”

“No, it isn’t. There has never been a recorded shark attack in any of these coves, except for that one time. There hasn’t been one since, even, and it was fifteen some-odd years ago.”

Danny frowned, thinking. It wasn’t the house’s fault, and if it had been fifteen years… well, he could always forbid Grace from swimming, or at the very least, set up some buoys and nets to keep her in the shallows.

“Alright… I’d like to put an offer in, if it’s not too late,” Danny told her, bracing himself for bad news. Instead, the realtor looked surprisingly relieved.

“Fantastic news. I’ll alert the bank and have the paperwork ready for you before the weekend.”

They shook on it and exchanged information, Danny collecting Grace and heading back out to the Jeep.

“Are you really gonna buy this house, Danno?”

“Yeah, baby, I think I am. You like it, right?”

“Of course! I can’t wait to pick a color to paint my room!”

Danny let her chatter on about paint and various shades of pink, grinning to himself. A beach front property was not where he’d seen himself a few years ago, but the price was right and he was willing to take his chances with sharks. That and he may have had an ulterior motive.

A large, half man, half fish shaped motive.

~*~

 

Steve anxiously checked the nets that morning, swirling around them and flashing his teeth at the large fish wriggling within. The nets were practically swollen with fish, and the thought of Danny’s smiling face brought warmth to Steve’s chest.

The familiar sound of the Saving Grace’s motor alerted him to Danny’s arrival, and Steve propelled himself towards the surface, water rushing past his gills. Popping above the surface, Steve waited for Danny to get his bearings, bobbing on the waves before making his way towards the back of the boat. He thumped his fist against the side, part of their code for making sure Danny was alone.

“C’mon up,” Danny called, voice strained. Steve hauled himself up, resting on the top step. He watched curiously as Danny tugged a good sized container towards the back of the boat. Sniffing the air, Steve recoiled slightly; old blood and fish guts.

_’What is that?’_ Steve asked, nose wrinkling.

Pausing, Danny leveled him with a look. “This, my friend, is chum. Surely you’ve seen chum before.”

Feeling his stomach sink, Steve nodded. _’Some hunters have used it, yeah. Nothing good comes of it, though.’_

“If by nothing good you mean a huge payday in the form of sharks, then sure.”

_’Danny, you can’t hunt sharks in these waters. It isn’t safe!’_ Steve whistled shrilly, tail thumping angrily on the deck.

“Relax, fish-brain, I’m only looking for the little ones.” Danny ladled up some of the nasty stuff and cast it into the water, grimacing at the plopping sound it made.

Steve rolled his eyes, splashing Danny on his way into his tank. _’Because sharks are so discriminate in what kind of chum they’ll eat. You chum these waters, any sharks in the area that can smell the blood will come. That’s great for you, but what about me? I live down there, or did you forget?’_

Danny stopped what he was turning and turned a thoughtful eye on Steve. Chewing his lip, he realized Steve was right, but what could he do? Robertson had asked for sharks, so Danny had to bring him sharks.

“It’s not like you can’t just hang out on the boat. And how about this: I’ll only do it for a little while, that way the blood has time to dissipate. How does that sound? I don’t _want_ to fish sharks, Steve, I don’t. Who knows what the hell these people do with them… but that’s where the money is right now.”

_’You’ve got nets full to bursting down there. All that blood in the water… what d’you think they’ll eat first?’_

At the look on Danny’s face, Steve knew he had him there. He didn’t offer to help as Danny quickly reeled his nets in, dumping the fish in the holding tank. As he did so, he realized that perhaps Steve had a good point; that and where exactly was Danny going to put any sharks he caught? The only other tank besides the holding was Steve’s, and if Steve was in said tank…

“Alright, alright, you win. No shark fishing. And anyway, this haul will cover me for the next month at the very least… you didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” Danny asked, eying Steve somewhat suspiciously. “Because you know how I feel about that.”

Squirming, Steve didn’t meet Danny’s eyes right away. Sighing heavily, he admitted to luring fish into the nets, adding extra to Danny’s profits. _’You said you needed the money, so I figured why not help where and how I could.’_

“What do you know about money, babe, huh? You’re half fish, you live in the ocean, you have no need of currency. But that’s besides the point! The point is that I have no way of repaying you, and I hate being indebted to people.”

_’I know about money!’_ Steve clicked before he realized what he was saying. _’I know plenty about money. And you don’t need to repay me, Danny. Your friendship, trust, and protection is enough.’_

Staring, Danny slowly sat down on the edge of Steve’s tank. “How d’you know about money, Steve? Did someone teach you?”

Panic bloomed in Steve’s belly as he realized what exactly he’d said. Now Danny was going to want him to explain everything, to tell the story, and he wasn’t ready to do that. Not yet. Not when he couldn’t be sure it was all worth it.

~*~

Steve’s childhood had been normal enough: both his parents had been employed, he’d been able to attend school, he had lots of friends, he was fit and healthy. He knew on some level that not everyone got to live right on the beach, and he was pretty sure there was a reason beyond the fact that the property was nice.

There was also his unusual love of fish. At least once a week his mother – Doris – would prepare homemade sushi, spending the day cooking the nice and forming rolls. Various other nights of the week they ate fish, prepared in a whole assortment of ways. When his sister had asked why they ate fish so much, their father – John – had explained that it was good for them.

When Steve was thirteen, though, he found out the _real_ reason why they ate so much fish, and why periodically his parents would take long boat outings. After school one day, John solemnly explained that Steve was old enough to have “the talk.” Steve panicked, assuming his father had meant _that_ talk; he hadn’t, and at dusk that night the family trooped down to the waters edge. Doris smiled and kissed each of her children on the forehead before making her way down to the water. As she entered the water, it began to bubble and froth around her legs, almost as if it were boiling. Steve’s eyes widened almost comically as his mother suddenly diminished in height, sinking into the waves.

“Daddy!” Mary shouted, gripping their father’s hand tightly in her own. “Where’d she go?”

“It’s ok, sweetie, she’s right there,” John replied, gesturing towards the waves. As the sun touched the water, it turned everything to gold and illuminated Doris, showing off a thick column of tail the same color as her eyes. She waved at them from the water, smiling and beckoning. Mary was rooted to the spot, but Steve – who’d always loved the water – stripped down to his under shorts and waded into the water. As it splashed against his knees, a similar phenomenon occurred, the water swirling and sloshing around his legs. A tingling sensation began in the soles of his feet, spreading rapidly up his legs toward his groin.

Suddenly, Steve was face-first in the water, struggling to get his head above the surface. He felt hands grip his upper arms and turn him over, setting him upright. Wiping at his face, he caught a glimpse of a tail where his own legs had been. He flapped it experimentally, and found himself propelled backwards, shrieking. Doris and John laughed, Mary tip-toeing into the water herself and stomping with frustration when her own tail didn’t appear.

“You aren’t old enough yet, hon,” John explained. “When you’re Steve’s age, you’ll get your tail.”

And so from that moment, Steve spent as much time as he could in the water with his mother, getting used to this alien appendage and learning the coast from a new perspective. He learned that she’d gotten her tail at thirteen, just like him, as did all of the kids in her family. She taught him how to use his gills, how to read the currents, and which fish he could catch and eat. He learned how to control when and where he sprouted his tail, in the event he went swimming or surfing with friends. And when Mary was old enough, he taught her.

Doris had taken her children out into deeper water for the first time, gliding through the depths easily with her little school of “fish-people” behind her. She’d been teaching them about the dolphins and the sharks, and which forms of each species they could trust. On that day, however, the water was strangely quiet, strangely devoid of movement. Steve could sense something coming, smell something on the water, though he wasn’t sure what, not until it was too late.

Kingfisher took his mother, turning the water the color of old wine and sending the McGarrett kids swimming frantically towards shore. The dolphins swam with them, guiding them as close as they dared, some of them even doubling back to take on Kingfisher. It was too late, though; Doris was gone.

Steve was sixteen, his sister thirteen. They wept, huddled together in the sand with their father as they tried to tell him what happened. John wanted to forbid them from going into the water again, afraid the shark would come back, but telling a mer-person they can’t swim is like telling someone not to breathe. He vowed to catch and kill the shark that killed their mother, and they promised to help, despite John’s protests.

In the end, it ceased to matter; Steve was the only one to get away, his father’s boat torn to pieces in the water, his sister snapped up like she was nothing more than a snack. Steve had swam like his life depended on it, hiding himself away in shallower waters, living amongst the coral.

Unfortunately, Doris never got a chance to explain to either of her children that there was a price to be paid for what they were: at some point, they’d have to make a choice. They could live on land as a human being, or spend their lives in the water. That choice was made for Steve, as he didn’t know that the longer he spent with his tail sprouted, the harder it would be to change back. Hard enough, in fact, that he’d cease being able to change back at all.

~*~

Danny was waiting quietly, watching as Steve retreated somewhere deep inside himself. He knew his friend was troubled, and it bothered him that there was so little he could do about it. He moved to take the controls, move the boat, when Steve thumped his tail against the side of the tank. It was his way of getting Danny’s attention, and Danny gave it to him.

_’I know about money because, once upon a time, I was human… like you.’_

“… excuse me?” Danny asked, eyes widening. “You were what?”

Steve sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck. This was going to be tougher than he thought. Then he realized something, snapping his fingers. _’Do you have something to write on?’ he asked, making the motion when Danny didn’t move._

“Something… I have a dry-erase board and some markers…” Danny murmured, going below deck for a moment and rummaging. He reappeared with the board and markers in hand, doubtfully handing them over. Steve considered them before choosing the black one and beginning to write.

Danny watched, eyes widening as Steve painstakingly drew and wrote on the board, giving Danny enough time to register what was there before wiping it down and starting over. It wasn’t the whole story – not about his mother, or his father and sister, it still hurt too much to talk about them – but about how he used to be human.

“Ok, wait,” Danny said, pinching at the bridge of his nose. “You’re telling me that at one point, you could go back and forth between being a fish-brain and a regular human being? What happened that you can’t do it anymore?”

_’I realized that having spent so much time with my tail, it was like my body forgot how to change back. Trust me, I’ve tried, though its been a while.’_ Steve’s shoulder’s slumped. _’So, that’s how I know about money. I know about a lot of things, I just forget sometimes.’_

“Fish-brain,” Danny said thoughtfully. “It’s like the fish part of your brain sort of… took over, cleaned house, saved only the stuff it thought you’d need to survive. Makes sense, in a way. Doesn’t pay to be a person trying to survive in the middle of the ocean, right? And so, what, when your gills popped up, it messed with your vocal cords?”

_’I guess? I know they’re related, because anytime I swam as a kid in this form, I couldn’t actually talk. Maybe I can’t have both? Maybe it has to be one or the other? I really have no idea,’_ Steve clicked, shrugging.

“If you were on land, d’you think your body would remember?” Danny asked then, almost off-handedly.

Staring, Steve thought for a moment before shaking his head. _’I tried, crawled my way up into bluffs and cliffs and caves, totally out of the water. All it did was give me a sunburn and make my scales flake off.’_

“No, I’m talking _real_ land, like a, a beach.”

_’You saying you have a beach handy? This is Hawaii, remember? The beaches are crawling with people.’_

“Not this one,” Danny said, grinning. “I just bought me and my little girl a house, and it’s got it’s own private beach, tucked into this little cove, like. Tide’s in enough and it’s dark enough, neighbors wouldn’t be able to see you.”

Chewing at his lip, Steve thought about it before frowning. _’I don’t know… can I think about it?’_

Danny spread his hands, “of course, take your time. And hey, since you lived here, maybe you’d know the area? It’s Piikoi street.”

Steve’s head jerked in Danny’s direction at that, eyes huge. When he didn’t say anything, Danny gave him a funny look and continued. “It’s an older place, but it’s really nice; got a lanai on the first floor, and an upper deck off the master bedroom, of all things. My daughter’s really into Adirondack chairs, so we picked up a few and painted them the colors of the rainbow; they face the water, should be easy to spot.”

Nodding, Steve’s mind raced. It was entirely possible it was the house on his old street… however, he was pretty sure his had always been the only one with that huge upper deck. He wouldn’t know unless he checked it out. Making a noncommittal noise, Steve hoisted himself out of the tank and over to the small stairs, wriggling down and into the water. Danny called after him, concerned, but Steve pretended not to hear, instead following the currents and tide towards the place he once called home.

~*~

Danny and Grace had spent a few days getting the house in order; they scoured yard sales and consignment shops for quirky furniture, checked out auctions and estate sales, and visited paint stores. What they ended up with was an eclectic and cozy design, the furniture sanded and stained so it would match, the walls all painted in soothing shades of various colors. Grace’s room was a delicate shade of purple, her mismatched furniture painted white. She adored her room, adored her view of the ocean, adored having her own bathroom. Danny was just happy to have a place for his baby girl to rest her head when she came to visit him.

In the night, sharp, stormy eyes watched the house from out in the ocean, bobbing on the waves. When the moon came out, Steve could see the architectural details of his old home, but without the sun to show him the rainbow chairs, he couldn’t be certain. A part of him was furious; how dare someone move into and change everything his parents had done! However, the more rational part of him knew it had to happen sooner or later, and if anyone was going to move into his old house, at least it was someone he trusted.

Swimming as close as he dared, Steve burrowed into the sand, digging himself a cubby to sleep in until the sun came up. Then he’d have a better look, and really know for sure.

~*~

Danny was able to take a few days off here and there, and used that time to make the house presentable. It looked like a home, finally, and he decided it might be fun to have a diving pad floating out where it was a bit deeper, something he and Grace could both swim to and where he could meet Steve without having to go out in the boat.

A smile firmly in place, Danny made his way to the lumberyard to buy wood and materials to build his floating dive pad. Grace wasn’t with him that weekend, it’d be a great surprise for her. Being able to see Steve closer to home wasn’t a bad incentive either, of course.

That was something to think about, and also something Danny had effectively been _not_ thinking about. Regardless of all the time they’d spent together, he didn’t really know Steve. The other man wasn’t very forthcoming about his past with regards to being a biped, though Danny had tried to wheedle things out of him.

“Maybe I can look it up,” Danny mused aloud, heading home with his purchases. “I can at least look into the shark attack thing, see who owned the house before.” That settled, Danny returned to the house and his project for the afternoon.

~*~

A weird mix of excitement and nerves twisted in Steve’s stomach; the house Danny had described was indeed his childhood home, he’d know it anywhere. The sound of hammering and buzzsaws echoed across the water, and Steve could just make out the shape of someone doing work in the back yard. Sun glinted off blonde hair, and Steve was positive it was Danny. He could swim closer to see what exactly the mainlander was working on, but wasn’t sure if he’d be welcome. He wasn’t sure what exactly to call the interactions he and Danny had.

Were they friends? Business partners? Truthfully, all the time they spent together was when Danny was working, and Steve was helping him with that work. Steve knew Danny had a child, and that everything he did, everything he was went towards that child. In the end, he didn’t know much about Danny beyond his roles of fisherman and father; surely those things weren’t the only things that defined him.

Resigning himself to the fact that the time wasn’t right, Steve swam back out into the depths in search of his coral.

~*~

The local library was open on the weekend, and that’s where Danny found himself after he’d launched and anchored his dive pad. A shrewd looking woman lead him over to where the local newspapers and periodicals were stored and showed him how to use the ancient looking projector.

Starting with the time frame of the shark attack, Danny busied himself with combing through article after article, paper after paper, until after an hour or so he found the one he needed. Scanning the headline, he sucked in a sharp breath: **Mother of Two, Killed in Freak Shark Attack.**. The article featured an inset photo of the woman, smiling and lovely, and a larger photo towards the end of the entire family. Squinting, Danny fiddled with the projectors controls until he’d made the family photo large enough. He scanned the photo, eyes drifting over the faces until they snagged on one in particular. This face was familiar and yet not; it lacked the angles of age and the weariness about the eyes. Still, Danny would’ve known that face anywhere: it was Steve.

Slumping back in his chair, Danny scrubbed his hands over his face. Steve hadn’t mentioned anything about his family, and now that the dots had been connected, Danny could see why. There was still the question of whether a shark really _had_ killed the remaining three McGarretts, or if they’d become fish-people and swam their separate ways. Danny had a feeling that wasn’t the case; Steve wouldn’t’ve gone out of his way to seek out companionship if he had had anyone else. Which meant he really was all alone out there, and had been for a very, _very_ long time. Danny’s chest ached at the idea of a young Steve having to fend for himself in the ocean against all sorts of monsters.

Turning back to the projector, Danny read through for any other mention of the McGarrett family. There was an article about John McGarrett being commemorated for his bravery in the Honolulu Police department, and Doris for raising money to repair a local teen center. After the shark incident, though, there was nothing, not even an obituary. Frowning, Danny went to pester the librarian about records of previous owners for his house, and ended up with all sorts of information, most of which was useless. He confirmed that yes, Steve’s family had owned the house he now lived in, and that no one else had been interested since then.

_Maybe if he comes home, really comes home, he could get his legs back,_ Danny thought, chewing at his lip. He didn’t know why, but it suddenly seemed very important that Steve come to the beach behind the house, meet Grace, see all the work they’d done to restore the house’s beauty.

Plan in place, Danny went about trying to figure out the best way to explain everything to Grace.

~*~

The sound of the Saving Grace’s motors were like music to Steve’s ears. He didn’t like when Danny took days off, didn’t like not having something to look forward to. Swimming excitedly, he broke the surface and waited for the boat’s engines to shut off before heading towards the back.

Thumping the side of the boat with his fist, Steve was surprised to hear a thump in return: code for Danny having a passenger. Unsure of whether to turn tail and flee or stay and wait, Steve was startled when Danny’s face appeared over the back of the boat.

“Hey fish-brain! Long time no see!”

_’That’s because you haven’t been here,’_ Steve whistled, frowning. _’What’s going on, who’s with you?’_

“I have someone here who is really looking forward to meeting you,” Danny replied, smirking. “Just hold on, don’t go anywhere.”

His face vanished, and Steve could hear him clomping his way around on the deck. There was the rumble of Danny’s voice, and a much higher, softer sound in return. Curious, Steve moved towards his customary place at the back of the boat and peered up. He was in the process of levering himself up when he heard a shrill squeak.

Jerking his head up, Steve found himself almost nose-to-nose with a bright-eyed little girl.

“Oh my god, Danno, he’s _beautiful!_ ” she gushed, hands clasped beneath her chin.

Steve looked around, baffled, before he saw Danny appear behind the little girl, a smile on his face. “Steve, I’d like you to meet my daughter; Gracie, this is my special friend Steve.”

He beckoned for Steve to resume his trek up onto the deck, and Steve dragged himself up and over to his tank, shooting wary glances at the child as he went. She watched him move with wide-eyed fascination, gaping at his tail and tiny fins.

Once safely in his tank, Steve looked questioningly at Danny, who shrugged.

“What can I say, babe, I figured it was time. I did a little research at the library, found out why exactly no one had bought the house since your family owned it. It’s a damn shame what happened to you guys, and I... well, that is to say, _we_ wanted you to know that--”

“We’ll be your family, Steve!” Grace shouted, cutting Danny off and hurling herself into Steve’s tank. She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight as Steve flailed beneath her, eyes huge with panic. Danny just laughed at him, watching as Grace sat dripping and happy beside him.

“You are welcome at our beach anytime, and I even built a diving pad! It floats a decent ways out, not so deep Gracie can’t use it, but not so shallow that you’d be, like, beached or anything.” Danny’s cheeks flushed pink as he spoke, and Steve tried not to let it show just how pleased he was by all of this.

“Will you come swim and play with us, Steve?” Grace asked, puppy eyes on display.

Helpless to say no, Steve nodded that he would indeed swim and play with them, and Danny steered them back in that direction, dropping anchor just a ways out from the diving pad and leaping into the water, followed by Grace and a gape-mouthed Steve.

They made it to the dive pad to have a rest before swimming to the beach. Steve remained in the shallows, sitting so the water swirled around his shoulders.

_’Thank you,’_ he said, reaching out and grasping Danny’s hand with his own.

“You’re welcome,” Danny replied softly, watching as Grace skipped her way along the beach. “Any time you need a safe haven, you’re welcome here.”

Too overcome with emotion to respond, Steve nodded. Danny trudged up towards drier sand and hurried around after Grace, laughing with her as they chased each other. The tiny fins at Steve’s hips flailed, churning up the water around him; he desperately wanted to play on the beach with his new friends -- his new _family_ \-- but wasn’t ready to chance the notion that it might not work. Instead, he sat in the water and watched them, squawking with indignation when Grace galloped into the water and splashed him in the face.

~*~

Steve started spending more and more nights sleeping in a sand cubby next to the anchor of Danny’s dive pad. It was weird to be so out in the open, but the water was shallow enough that nothing too big dared come close to him. It was nice to feel safe.

Whenever Grace came over, she’d swim out to the dive pad and tell Steve about her week at school, about her mom and step-dad. She didn’t understand Morse Code like Danny did, so all Steve could really do was nod or shake his head; Grace didn’t seem to mind. Danny would even swim out sometimes, stretching out on the dive pad to tan. Sharing a conspiratorial look, Grace and Steve almost always ended up soaking him, sending the blonde into an angry tirade.

It seemed like everything Steve had lost was coming back to him; he’d never forget his past, or about Kingfisher, but he felt safe enough to not think about the mer-eating shark so much. He was almost positive Kingfisher wouldn’t come so close to land and people, though he wasn’t in any hurry to test that theory.

Unfortunately, Kingfisher wasn’t the type to give Steve a choice.

~*~

Storm season had come to Hawaii, and Danny was out on his boat less than he’d liked. Some of the natives still went out, coming back looking worse for the wear, and while Danny couldn’t say no to the money, he _could_ say no to possibly drowning. It wasn’t worth going out when the waves were big enough to tip a boat over.

Grace still wanted to swim, and regardless of her father’s warning, waded out into the choppy surf. Steve usually tried to sleep through the storms, burrowed down into the sand, but was awakened when he heard Grace’s familiar swimming pattern. As strong a swimmer as she was, she wasn’t strong enough to keep the tide from dragging her out past the diving pad. Steve watched with horror as she was tugged out into deep water, and fought the current to chase after her, squinting his eyes against the sand and grit that was kicked up.

Coiling his tail, Steve propelled himself forward, reaching out for the little girl. He popped up beside her, and she clutched at his shoulders, crying.

“It’s too deep, Steve!” she shouted, eyes wide with fear.

Steve nodded, trying to turn them around and make his way back to shore. He froze then, because a large fin was cutting through the water towards them. The fin was huge, almost black in the stormy light, and Steve felt his stomach drop. It was Kingfisher, and he was making his move.

Despite Grace’s screams of panic, Steve forced himself through the tide towards the beach. He could make out the shape of Danny at the shore, waving frantically and calling to them. The distance to the beach was too great; frowning, Steve turned towards the dive pad. He deposited Grace upon it, wiping at her tears before diving down, swimming towards Kingfisher. He had to distract the shark somehow, had to lead it away from the beach and his new family.

The giant fish rolled it’s black eyes in Steve’s direction and bared it’s teeth. Steve could smell the thing’s hate, it rolled off the shark in waves. Swallowing his fear, Steve bared his teeth and hooked his fingers into claws, barrelling into the shark tooth and nail.

~*~

Danny had screamed himself hoarse but wasn’t getting any response; the storm was practically roaring at them and Grace was clinging to the dive pad for dear life. He’d just barely been able to make out the shape of a fin in the water, and what looked like Steve swimming right towards it. Almost instinctively, Danny knew the shark was Kingfisher, and he was terrified for Steve.

He knew though, on some level, that there was little he could do to help, and so focused his attention on getting to his daughter. He had a small motorboat dragged up on the beach, and ran towards it, getting it into the water and gunning the engine. It sputtered to life and Danny steered it towards Grace, still dutifully clinging to the dive pad.

“Danno!” she screamed, “Steve’s still out there!”

“I know! We can’t help him, we have to get to the beach!” he called back, extending an arm. Danny was pretty sure the bereft look on Grace’s face was mirrored in his own expression. The little girl leapt into the boat and Danny steered them back towards shore, a worried glance thrown in the direction Steve had gone.

Steve, who was fighting for his life. Kingfisher was old, and perhaps going blind in one eye, but he was still strong and fast and it took everything Steve had to stay one step ahead. He churned and frothed the water, kicking up sand and grit, trying to keep himself camouflaged. He’d clawed and bitten at the shark, drawing blood for every ounce of his own the shark had taken. Rage flowed through him and he batted at the shark with his tail.

The shark would be useless without his eyes, if only Steve could get his fingers on them. He’d tear out the entire sinus cavity if he could, render the shark dead in the water. Whatever he did had to be done before he got too exhausted to keep swimming.

His mother’s voice echoed in his ears, all her warnings and stories of how to stay safe out in the ocean tumbling over one another. A fin smacked Steve in the face, breaking his nose and sending blood into the water. It created a cloud, and Steve used it to his advantage; Doris had taught her children that once a shark had been turned blood-blind, it was pretty difficult for it to focus on anything else. Steve circled behind, out of Kingfisher’s line of sight, and prepared to strike. He’d only have one chance, the storm’s tearing of the tides dissipating the cloud of blood faster than he’d have liked.

Coiling his tail and concentrating the last of his energy, Steve struck, biting down hard at the place where Kingfisher’s dorsal fin met his back. Clamping his jaw, Steve reached out and clawed at the beast’s eyes, ripping and tearing until he was feeling around inside the sinus cavity. Rage-driven, he stabbed with his fingers until he felt the shark begin to sink, and he with it. Cracking open his jaw, Steve shook the taste of the murderous monster out of his mouth and watched the carcass sink to the sand.

Kingfisher was dead.

Relief washed over Steve, quickly followed by exhaustion. Adrenaline had fueled him, but now that he didnt have to fight, his body flagged.

If he could make it to the dive pad, he’d be alright, be able to haul himself up and rest, but if not, he’d sink to the bottom just like the shark.

~*~

Danny and Grace anxiously paced the beach, shielding their eyes against the storm. Lightning cracked, revealing the choppy surf, but showed no sign of their friend. Knowing how dangerous the weather could be, Danny ushered Grace into the house. He was loathe to do so, wanted to go back out into the little boat and search for him, but knew that if anything happened to him Grace would be alone, and that wasn’t something he was willing to risk.

The storm doors were enough to drown out the howling wind, but did nothing to buffett Grace’s sobs.

~*~

The following morning, Danny was out on the beach almost as soon as the sun had risen. There appeared to be something laying atop the diving pad, but the diving pad had drifted, the anchor dragged along the bottom out to deeper water. Revving up the engine of the small boat, Danny made his way over, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

As he got closer, he realized that it was Steve, curled up in a ball on the dive pad’s surface. Gunning the engine, Danny pulled up alongside the dive pad and leapt onto it, frantically shaking Steve by the shoulders.

“C’mon fish-brain, dont do this to me! Wake up, _wake up_.”

Steve’s eyes rolled as he inhaled deeply, breath shuddering back out again.

‘ _Danny..._ ’ he whistled weakly. The little fins at his hips twitched, and Danny bit back tears. Steve was scratched up all over, his nose swollen and the area around his eyes puffy and bruised. There was a gash down one flank, and Danny was pretty sure a few of Steve’s fingers were broken.

“Hey buddy, don’t pass out on me here, ok? I need you to get into the boat, I’m gonna get you back to the house so I can clean you up, alright? Hey, Steve, are you listening?”

Steve nodded and managed to roll himself into the little boat. When he was sure the other man wasn’t going to tumble out, Danny gunned the engine and raced back to the beach. Grace was waiting, stricken, a large bucket of water in her hands.

Hitting the sand, Danny scrambled to get Steve onto the beach, dragging him up onto the sand. Grace had dug a sort of moat, and Steve’s lower half fit into it perfectly, allowing him to stay moistened. The bucket of water was dumped over his chest and Steve sputtered, wiping water out of his eyes.

“Grace, stay with him while I grab the first aid kit,” Danny called, already jogging towards the house.

“Please don’t die, Steve, I want you to stay with us,” Grace pleaded, holding one of Steve’s hands clutched in both of hers.

Unable to find the strength to reply, Steve just nodded, eyes rolling closed as he tried to rest. The salt water was stinging his open wounds, and his nose being broken was making it hard for him to rest comfortably.

There was a tickle in the back of his mind, of something long remembered but easily forgotten. He thumped his tail in the sand, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. Something about the sand beneath him was familiar, felt like it was trying to remind him of something. Grace was speaking to him, her tone nervous even as Danny came hurrying back with the first aid kit.

“Steve, what are--holy shit,” Danny breathed, reaching out and tugging Grace towards him. A soft light was shivering up and down the length of Steve’s body, lingering around his tail. Holding his breath, Danny restrained himself from daring to hope.

An itch appeared in Steve’s tail, and quickly turned into a burning sensation, like rings of fire around his lower half. He writhed in the sand, panting against the pain even as he felt something begin to tear in his deep musculature. He was vaguely aware of Danny cursing beside him, and saying something about covering Grace’s eyes.

The tearing increased to a point that Steve couldn’t handle anymore, and he screamed, actually _feeling_ the sound rip free of his throat. It was the first time in years he’d truly uttered a sound.

~*~

Mortified, Danny watched as Steve’s lower half melted and morphed, going from one long column of muscle to two toned legs. Other things were revealed as well, and Danny couldn’t help but blush; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to Steve and had been since the beginning, fishtail and all.

When the screaming stopped, Danny sent Grace into the house for a blanket before approaching the prone figure in the sand. The body before him was entire human, from the top of his head to the bottoms of his feet. There was nothing to suggest Steve had ever been anything besides human.

Reaching out, Danny tentatively stroked a hand through Steve’s hair, testing the texture. It was long, curling over the other man’s forehead and at the back of his neck. Danny’s fingertips strayed along a cheekbone and a jawline, and watched as Steve’s eyelids fluttered open.

“Steve... are... are you ok?” Danny asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Frowning, Steve struggled to get his elbows beneath him. “D-danny?” he rasped, before clearing his throat and trying again. “Danny...”

Before he could think twice, Danny was throwing his arms around Steve’s shoulders and tugging him close. He felt one of Steve’s legs twitch beside him and grinned into the other man’s hair; those tiny fins had become legs.

Steve’s arms were slowly winding around him, and Danny sighed happily. He heard Grace running over the sand with a blanket and he wrapped Steve in it, trying to preserve at least a little of his privacy. “Babe, d’you think you can walk? D’you wanna try?”

Tensing his jaw, Steve nodded and allowed Danny to tug him to his feet. He wobbled a little but attempted to take a step. His leg held, and he took another before he felt the muscles cramp up; those muscles had been powering his tail before and they were exhausted. He said as much to Danny, who nodded with understanding and half dragged, half carried Steve to the rainbow Adirondack chairs.

“Just sit right there and rest, babe, ok? Gracie, do we have any lemonade left?” Danny asked, perching on the arm of the chair.

Grace’s face split into a wide grin. “I think so! I’ll grab it and some cups, be right back.” She darted over and kissed Steve on the cheek, startling him. “Don’t go anywhere Steve, ok?”

She darted off again, sprinting into the house.

“Ok, here goes nothing, while I have the chance,” Danny muttered into Steve’s ear, seconds before kissing the other man himself, right on the mouth.

Steve grunted into it, surprised, before parting his lips and allowing Danny in briefly before pulling away.

“Do you have a spare toothbrush?” Steve croaked, frowning, and Danny burst into laughter.

“Ha, yeah, we should probably do something about that, huh, fish-breath?” Danny commented, taking a cup from Grace and pouring the lemonade. “There’ll be plenty of time for the other stuff.”

“I sure hope so,” Steve said quietly, making room on the chair for Grace.

They sat together and watched the sun climb higher into the sky, and all of them felt like they’d finally found the family that was right for them, fish-breath and all.

-FIN-


End file.
